Ambrosia
by Twi-Red-Ruxi
Summary: "His train of thought crashed and burned as she lowered her hand to hesitantly touch him and in his mind he was left howling obscenities at the real, for giving him something like this." Oneshot, character study.


**A.N.: Gah... -blushes- So, finally, I've decided to post this one. It's a slightly milder one from the full version, which I feel way too embarrassed about to post here. (I have that one on my lj account, so just tell me if you wanna see that too and I'll direct you to it.) **

**This is a trimmed down version without the actual s-se-se... I mean, there's nothing more than touching here.  
**

**_Seriously, I'm a prude, despite all my interest in these kind of things as a normal human being. I'm a real prude, for real._  
**

**But alas, this just had to be done. And I, personally, cannot _absolutely cannot_ decide upon ONE single OTP from this fandom. Because Keima is just that awesome, he can be any and every girl's significant other (-sigh- No wonder he isn't real...). I've tried to make the female character as ambiguous and easy-to-identify-with-a-certain-character as possible, soooo... the pairing is up to the reader to decide. **

**Disclaimer: THIS IS PURELY FAN-MADE!**

**Warnings, just in case: it guess it's underage. Also, implied sexy times to be had.  
**

* * *

It shouldn't have ended up this way. It didn't ever even cross his mind that something like this would ever happen.

"Keima-kun" the girl mewled like a sultry kitten as she seeked him out, her small soft hands grasping in the dark for his skin.

It shouldn't feel this good.

He normally would've been cursing the real world and its stupid shenanigans by now, but he just wasn't able to _think_ anymore. He was melting to the core, his skin felt like molten chocolate sliding all over his bones, his lungs trying to keep their composure in the hot humid air. His mind, the brain of a brilliant prodigy, had sparks popping and fizzing at all the unfamiliar, intense emotions, trying to analyze and formulate and express but _oh_- oh, he'd never been touched like this ever before and his body was at the mercy of the hyper-sensitive nerves from within his epidermis- he could think, he was all too aware of his surroundings and such, but that was all his brilliant mind was able to conjure, all words escaping his grasp as he could only try to keep himself sane and act reasonable. As in be able to control all those ugly, terrifying, _human_ instincts that arose with all these sensations.

She moaned as she kept squirming under him, smooth soft skin clinging wetly to his in her pursuit to satisfaction. Her upper body was naked and supple, showing curves he didn't think would ever look so tantalizing to-to... to what?

Impatient, she only slid her pleated skirt upwards, bunching it up onto her waist, exposing sweaty skin and her legs – thigh length stockings miraculously still neatly, beautifully stretched- just couldn't stand still- knees rubbing each other as an ultimate spurt of shyness, ankles sliding against his calves (_it shouldn't have felt so very sensual, but it made him quiver and now it was so much harder to breathe..._), one long leg shakily making its way between his own and _strokingandohmynostopIcan't_...

Her hair was on his pillow, her scent in his nostrils, her presence engulfing his senses and it was all just her, just her and her pretty heart shining beneath her diamond beaded skin.

Why him? _Why him?_

Her hands dug deep enough into his back to make him feel lightning shoot through his everything and he clenched his fists to control himself. Animals had nothing on them; humans were so much more primal, more emotional and ridiculously passionate and _wrong_.

This shouldn't have affected him, because he was a God, he was the God of Conquest who had promised to help any maiden in need.

(He did not think back then about how much of an issue _this_ may be, and he felt it like a burning mark on his pride that he didn't think about _that_, because, really, he should have, he really _really_ should have.)

He embraced the girl on his bed, and marveled once more at the feeling of a body of the opposite sex felt through the touch of the inside of his palms. It was becoming quite a challenge to breathe properly, and Keima thought that maybe they would faint from the lack of oxygen at some point, _if they did not boil in the humid hot air before that_. He sighed, oddly content in his mind while his body was in overdrive as he discarded his dress shirt and let it fall to the floor. He was trying not to think too hard, he now knew he would surely have a headache soon anyway (Tried not to think about what they were doing, about where it might lead them to, because now there was no turning back.). Conflicting feelings aside, was it really a need? Why did it come to this and _how_? He couldn't remember, actually he did but didn't want to – certainly not, not anymore…- because then they would have to stop and he somehow reached the conclusion that that was not an option now.

It was all so warm and moist and wonderful in its own raw, sloppy and passionate way; obviously a part of the real world, with its improvisations, its unpredictable, _frustrating_ ways. It was a signature of the real which would usually made him curl into himself in disgust, but this time he only acknowledged it, because this girl was in it with him and it was all so raw and open and honest, it was all he could to keep his awe at this development within himself. She was beautiful with her way with words – even when she was not talking aloud (the ones in her head he could still read), the way her eyes lit up, her eyelashes clean and her face glowing with her emotions. She was predictable in a way, just like his other girls, but at the same time not, just like them in this regard as well.

(They were all so majestic in their own way, so powerful and beautiful, so different and similar and ruthless in their path, he would not dare stand in their way even if he wanted to. They did not need to cling to him, they didn't need anyone in order to be themselves and _he was so very proud of them_, in a way he never felt towards anyone from the real.)

In a way, it was like he was doing it with all of them at the same time- and he couldn't bring himself to think anything else beside that any further.

His train of thought crashed and burned as she lowered her hand to hesitantly touch him and in his mind he was left howling obscenities at _the real_, for giving him something like this. This was a curse, a terrible curse, a temptation and a sin -because you just don't _do_ that to a god, dammit- but it was also a gift, a sweet drop of ambrosia and poison all the same, for being who he was, for saving those poor souls that needed a friend, an anchor... a lover.

He gasped for breath, fingers curled around her wrist. They all felt so small- in fact, all of the girls that he'd embraced, they all had such a dainty frame; regardless of their age, even if he wasn't among the most solid or tallest males, their bodies felt like flowers- soft, silky, willowy, _beautiful_ flowers – each in their own way. It was just something about the female body, as it turned pliant against a male one, like vines draping over a tree, like silk and velvet pouring over solid stone...

Like a clear stream making its way underground, one drop at a time.

She starts whispering obscenities in dulcet tones, sweet glossy lips brushing his ear as she aligns her body with his –or is it the other way around? - and suddenly starts to _grind_ herself against him. Keima receives the pressure on his lower body as an unbearably pleasant torture. He grips her hard across the waist, holding her in place, plastered to his front and pressed in all the right places to make his head spin.

His mind was not supposed to acknowledge this- but he did, even if his face had kept itself into a flawless poker-face all this time. His skin was flushed, his breathing a bit deeper and harsher and slightly louder, but his face was still composed, albeit a little more wide-eyed than usual. He looked calmer on the outside than he currently was on the inside, he knew.

But _damn_, he was about to gnash his teeth so hard he was sure he would break his own jaw, he couldn't keep this up. Because while he was the Capturing God...

He was also human.

* * *

**...did I really post this here? Ohgosh.  
**

**(Sorry; I repeat, this had to be done.)  
**

**Also, this began with the intention of being a character-study of our dearest Otamegane, since I have a few more ideas for the TWOGK universe to flesh out. (No guarantee they'll be good or when exactly they'll appear properly though. But they're like an itch I feel like scratching. Also, I love Keima. O3O)  
**

**Don't know if that might be the case, but if anyone wants to see the longer version for this (which has a bit more content, but still subtle- because I'm shy like a turtle), let me know and I'll give you the link for my lj. (It's only visible for the ones on my friends list, but we'll see when we get to that.)  
**

**Over and out. ^^  
**


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